How to Unscrew Your Life
by bottledempathy
Summary: Steve and Tony have therapy post Civil War. Some humor. Some angst. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

He was an inventor, a billionaire, a playboy, and a philanthropist. He did not belong here. He did not deserve this. He was in charge of the Avenger's for Christ's sake.

So SHIELD had decided he needed to see a counselor. A head shrink. This was not something he deserved. He had worked with the government to set up the accords. He had been the one who had been to hell and back. Not some suit behind a desk who decided he was unstable. Post-traumatic stress. This was insane. Granted, he was tired as hell, and it sure as shit had been a rough fucking three years. The accords, the Avengers breaking up, Pepper and he…that one hurt too much to focus on. Having the accords adjusted, getting SHIRELD back on its feet, dealing with the fact that his parents…fuck. He really needed to stop remembering bad things. There had to be an invention there. The unfuck your shit life button. He should look into that.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned his head back against the wall. It was late for an appointment like this, but Stark money could keep a lot of offices open past business hours. He shifted in his chair, leaned forward, and tugged on his tie, loosening it. He rested his elbows on his knees, and wished again, that he had said no to this.

The waiting room was nice, but not overtly expensive. A fountain sat in the corner, bronze, with a fat cherub holding a canister of water. He hated cherubs. Why the fuck anyone would need a fat baby angel was beyond him. He found himself scowling at it and quickly tried to modify his expression. He returned to perusing the room. A pleasant looking woman sat behind the panes of glass, the brown leather seats were older but in decent shape. He leaned back in his seat and laid his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes. Maybe this would be ok. Maybe this would help. He had been pretty stressed. He had been through a lot more than the average man. Maybe this would work. Pepper said he needed help. Pepper was smart and lovely. She knew this stuff.

He frowned. Fuck that. He did not need counseling. The world needed to stop sucking so damn much. This was total bullshit.

"Can you relax?" a voice said beside him. He tensed, dug his nails into his palms until it hurt, and looked the occupied chair three chairs down from his. Blond, crease between his eyes, irritated blue eyes and perfect damn teeth. . The sun setting through the windows cast him in an almost angelic glow.

Asshole.

Yep. The team was back together and molding nicely. Thor, Bruce, Nat, Clint. Even new members Wanda and T'Challa were ready to move on. But not him and Captain Dickhead. The first meeting had ended in Tony's broken nose, Steve's busted lip, and a broken conference room table. Meeting two had started out with bagels, cream cheese, and coffee, but ended with Natasha burying her face in her hands, and Thor praying to an unknown deity for peace.

Lastly, the third meeting had ended with Fury telling them both he didn't want to lay eyes on either of them until they "worked this shit out." He'd said that, told them both to go to hell, and disappeared.

So, really, there had been progress when you thought about it. Which he had told Pepper. And Pepper, who apparently hated him, had suggested this. SHIELD had made a few calls and here they were.

Steve's voice made his blood pressure rise and he felt a scowl form quickly on his face. Tony rolled his eyes. "Can you shut the hell up?" God, to be anywhere else right now.

Steve blinked back at him and frowned. "If this is going to work we're going to have to be respectful of one another."

"Thank you so much, Captain Goldilocks. So glad you are here to keep us on the path to righteousness."

Steve's frown of disapproval made an appearance, and he had an irrational need to flick him between his perfect eyebrows. Flick him. And then maybe punch him. Maybe there could be a bus there. To run him over. Only if convenient.

"Stark, I don't want to be here anymore than you. But the team…"

Tony felt anger rip through his body. He stood slowly and faced Steve walking down the row toward the other man, "And now we talk about the team? Where the hell was the team mentality when you left me frozen in Siberia?"

Steve's went blank, unexpectedly. "You left me no choice, Tony."

"You had a choice, Cap. You could have helped me. You could've told me. You could've done something. Fuck, Steve. Anything!"

"Tony, Bucky and I have a long history. Til the…"

Tony rushed forward until he stood directly in front of his chair. "If you say til the end of the line one more time…"

Steve slowly set down his magazine and rose to meet Tony's eyes directly. His jaw was tight, his face flushed.

Tony's stomach churned and his fists clenched. This was going so well.

There was a cough behind them, and they both turned slowly and looked back toward thea receptionist now standing in front of the door to the office. Her face was white, and she held a clipboard in front of her chest like a physical shield.

"The doctor can see you now."

Tony straightened and slapped on his best press smile. "Looking forward to meeting her. Right, Cap?"

Steve's face blushed even more and offered a halfhearted smile. "Yes. Thank you so much, ma'am."

Tony stooped down and grabbed his suit jacket off the table, but gestured to Steve to go first. Steve nodded and preceded through the large mahogany doors.

Yep. Definitley gonna need an unfuck my life button. Next big Stark Industries product to hit the shelves.


	2. Chapter 2

**chap 2

The room was a soft cream, with one lamp in the corner. It smelled faintly of cinnamon, and Tony hoped like hell it wouldn't follow him home on his clothing. He was sure a Yanni CD was playing in the background, and was grateful he could only catch a note here or there. It was like boiling acid on his already fraught nerves.

They sat quickly on opposite ends of the couch. He could see that Steve was desperately trying to reign in in his own temper. He hands were clasped in his lap tightly; his back ran rod straight. His khaki pants were wrinkled, and he repeatedly swiped his hands down them showing his nervousness.

The couch was corduroy with several pillows stuffed along the sides. The pillows were fluffy, but worn. Tony grabbed one as he slumped down in his seat, covering his lap. He then grabbed another and stuffed it into the seat between them. And one more. Ok, there were two left, they might as well be useful.

There was now a small tower of pillows between he and Steve, who was currently pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep seated breaths.

The doctor was a small woman, not overweight but not skinny, was wearing a tweed jacket, and large dark glasses. Her brown hair was highlighted, but in a subtle way. Her jacket was grey and she met Tony's eyes without nervousness or hesitation. This was someone unafraid of two superheroes sitting in front of her. She reminded him briefly of a smaller version of Pepper.

"Doc…"

"You may call me Leah," she said, quietly, her sharp brown eyes, looking almost amused. "I spoke with Nick and he filled me in on some of the history between you two."

Neither of them missed the use of Fury's first name and their eyes met briefly.

Leah smiled again. "I have higher security clearance that either of you," she said as she crossed her legs. She looked at them both levelly. "Can you two tell me why you are here?"

Tony nodded his acknowledgment. "I can cover this one, Leah. Little known fact. Captain America is a douchebag."

"Tony, there is a lady present and that was unnecessary." Steve pushed out through gritted teeth.

Tony chuckled humorlessly. "Apologies, Captain Khaki pants. I must have forgotten you were in the room." Tony said, throwing a feral grin down to the other end. Steve's face was turning red again. This gave him an immense amount of satisfaction.

"This isn't going to work," Steve said, rising abruptly. He stood and started toward the door in the back of the office.

"Captain Rogers…" the doctor began with a frown.

"Oh, hang on, Doc." Tony said, re straightening his tie. He almost knocked his pillow fort over and paused to right it. "No worries."

Steve stiffened and glared at Tony but did not leave.

"You don't know him as well as I do. This…" he said with a wave that encapsulated Steve from head to toe. , "is kind of his thing. When things become difficult he either forms a rebellion, or leaves." Cap growled.

Tony shot her his biggest smile. "No worries. He'll mail you a shit cell phone in a week or two with a heartfelt apology."

He looked up at Steve who was frozen in place, face flamed in anger. He could see his chest heave.

"Oh, and he may or may not break your best friend's back. Depends on how much time he has. " He squinted up at Steve. "Scheduling's a bitch isn't it?"

He would like to say he was surprised when Cap split his lip. But he was a genius. Took a lot to surprise him.

Tony sat his head pillowed on the couch, sitting on the floor, watching Rogers and his new shrink argue. He had a towel with ice resting on his lip, and it was stinging the hell out of his mouth. He winced, removed, and replaced it with a groan. So maybe being hit by a supersoldier was admittedly more painful than he remembered. His head was beginning to throb in rhythm with his heart.

Cap was agitated, and whispering intensely, occasionally glancing back at Tony. His hands were planted on his hips, and he kept scrubbing his hands through his hair. He scowled at Tony, and shoved his hands in his pockets with a resigned look.

The doctor turned and headed straight for Tony. She squatted down into the soft Berber before him. "How are you feeling?"

Tony smirked and winced when it hurt. "Like I was punched by Captain America. "

Cap slowly approached behind her and watched him warily. He crossed his arms over his chest, his red jacket revealing a plain white tshirt underneath.

"So standard for these days," Tony added, never breaking eye contact. Steve rolled his eyes. Dick.

The doctor stood, and turned to face Steve. "As I just finished telling him…I can help you both. But I can't do it if you won't stay and work for it."

She turned back to Tony and jabbed a finger in his face. Tony was so startled he pulled back. "You, Mr. Stark, will be respectful. You will be serious. The time for fun and games ended long ago. The world needs you two idiots to work this out. Can you cooperate?"

Tony pressed the ice onto his lips and closed his eyes. He nodded.

Ten minutes later they were back on the couch and Tony had broken down their pillow wall between them. He'd scrubbed his tie altogether, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Steve had removed his coat, and looked…well, tired. His normally perfect hair had had hands run through it so many times that it stood out at crazy angles. He was slumped back in his seat, head lulled to the side. It looked abnormal to Tony and he wondered if this was the first time he had really paid attention to Steve's appearance in a long time. This, too, made his head hurt. Why should he care at all?

"Gentleman, we simply do not have a lot of time left for this session. We will continue tomorrow."

Steve frowned. "This is once a week, right?"

"Captain, it is whatever I tell you it is," Leah said quickly rising to her feet.

Steve sat up straighter and Tony started to speak but was shut down my Leah's finger of doom. She arched and eye brow and he shrank in on himself. In a manly way.

She turned back to Steve. "Our goal is one hour of honesty. One hour without the threat of violence, one hour of telling each other the absolute truth. Whatever is eating at you both, it needs to be aired. "

Steve frowned, glanced down at Tony and nodded. Tony shrugged and Leah glared. He quickly followed with a nod.

"Tomorrow. 7 pm." She stood. "Until then leave me and each other in peace."

She sighed deeply. "Now get out of my office.

They rode in silence to the garage below, Tony with his hands tucked in his pockets, while Steve stood at attention, back ramrod straight until the elevator dinged open. A soft breeze moved in to the elevator and the soft sound of traffic could be heard in the distance. Steve looked back at him, nodded and headed out the door. It looked like they were the only ones on the level, and Steve headed for a motorcycle parked off to the left. Tony fished his keys out of his pockets, and pressed the button, his car beeping to allow his entry. He watched Steve's retreating back but said nothing.

Steve paused, and jammed his hands into his coat. He looked over his shoulder at the wall, but didn't his eyes did not meet Tony's. His face was pinched, his hair still sticking up at odd angles.

He cleared his throat. "Tony…"

Tony squeezed his keys, and started to walk toward his car. He took a deep breath, and looked out toward the doors. He wondered if his head was ever going to stop pounding.

Steve turned fully toward him. "I want you to know…"

Tony arched an eyebrow.

"I really am very sorry for not telling you about Howard and Maria."

Tony sucked in a breath, and pushed it out heavily. "I'll see you tomorrow." He quickly headed for his car, ducked in, and headed down the road never looking in his rearview mirror


	3. Chapter 3

Tony went for comfort this time. He rolled into the office in gray track pants, a new pair of Nikes, and his favorite Metallica t-shirt. He was early for probably the first time in…ever, and smiled winningly at the receptionist. The receptionist blinked, and shut the partition quickly. Ok, might take a few tries with that one.

"I don't think she likes us."

Tony turned to find Steve, dressed in worn jeans and a large yellow hoodie declaring him a valued customer of Dan's Custom Auto Detail. It was worn and soft, and a little big on Steve. Which actually gave Tony pause. Something seemed slightly off

"I prefer George's" Tony said with a shrug. Steve blinked and scrunched up his in confusion.

Tony gestured at his shirt and Steve looked down as if unaware of his own clothing. He said nothing when his expression changed back to blank.

Steve shrugged dismissively. He sat abruptly in the nearest chair. His hair was still wet as if it had been recently washed. His clothes were wrinkled as if having been sorted from a suitcase. Probably from a hotel stay.

Tony frowned. He didn't care where Cap lived. It wasn't his problem. He could barely manage keeping an eye on himself since Pepper left. He winced. Bad thought train. He didn't need that now.

Tony sat down too, one chair between them. He was tired. Tired in ways that he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't a napper, but he would have willingly set aside time for one if he could have. He yawned loudly, and this got the frown of disapproval from Steve.

"We need to rest, Tony. There's no way to know when we will need to assemble."

Tony cut him off with a sharp gesture. He had been through enough nagging for a lifetime. "Fuck off, Cap."

Steve looked mildly offended for a moment, and then his face and posture went slack again. He buried his head in his hands.

Tony blinked in surprise. He started to ask what was wrong when Leah appeared in the doorway.

"Gentlemen."

He didn't build a fort this time. That was an improvement, right?

Steve was slumped again, which gave Tony pause. There was something off about the man. He had always been ramrod straight, as if ready for battle any minute. He sort of lulled to the left which gave Tony a headache. He wondered briefly about reaching over and repositioning him.

Steve looked at him and frowned. Tony may have said that out loud.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, and Tony sipped at the cup of coffee Leah had offered him. It had to be Folgers, but it felt too impolite to spit it back out. It was hot and it was dark, and that's what he needed at the moment.

"I'm glad you both came. We got off to a rocky start yesterday, but you are both here, and on time. That means something," she said with a soft smile. She shifted and tugged at her corduroy jacket sleeves. Her bracelets gave a soft jingle as she shifted. She watched both men quietly.

"Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?" she asked.

Steve shrugged. "Tony's father was one of the men involved in the serum…"

"I read your files, Steve. Can you tell me a little bit about your history together?" she asked. It didn't come across as mean, simply matter of fact. Steve quickly looked down at Tony, a question on his face.

Tony shrugged. "We met fighting Loki. I saved his star-spangled ass."

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony smirked back. Leah pointed. Tony flinched and decided to start over.

"We did meet in a fight. You saw New York. We ate shawarma," he said, again shrugging.

Steve smirked at that. "That's one of the first things he said when he woke up from that fall. He had never tried shawarma."

Leah gave a soft smile. "What about after? Did you maintain a friendship?"

Steve sat up slightly and clasped his hands together. "I moved into the tower. Sometimes we worked out together. Ate dinner. Tony showed me some movies."

"But did you consider yourselves friends?"

Tony reached a hand up and massaged the back of his neck, frowning. "I…uh. I thought we were."

Steve sat up straighter and jammed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. "We were friends. Sort of. It was…complicated."

Tony felt a flush of anger. He balled up his hands and looked at the ceiling.

"Tony, is there something you want to say?" Leah asked quietly.

He grabbed a pillow and slapped it down between them. Not seeing another pillow, he stood it on its side to make more of a wall. "No. Not a damned thing. "He saw a second pillow behind Steve and reached out to wrench it away from him. Steve grabbed the pillow and glared.

"Sure seems like you want to speak," Steve said through clenched teeth.

"Remember, this is a safe space," Leah added softly.

Tony pulled on the pillow, but Steve held fast.

"I tried to be friends," Steve said sharply pulling on the pillow, causing Tony to lose balance and he tipped forward, landing with his head by Steve's leg. He sat back up quickly, his face flushing. Steve released the pillow abruptly. Tony jerked it to his side. Smashed it down on top of the other.

"We were friends, Steve. At least I thought we were. I don't see what the complication was."

"There are always complications with you, Stark," looking at him sharply. "Nothing is ever simple with you."

"Maybe you could elaborate on what the complications were. Was it when I let you live in my tower? Was it when you kept me from knowing the complications from my parent's deaths? Or was it when.."

Steve turned flat eyes to Tony. "Is there any situation that isn't completely about you?

" he turned to face Tony completely his jaw clenched. "Such very good friends that when th

e one person I had left in my life died, you didn't come to the funeral. You didn't call. Not even a text message," Steve spat. He seemed surprised by his own words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "It's just…complicated."

Tony's stomach dropped, and his face flushed. He stood, and went to stand behind the couch. His arms felt awkward as if he had forgotten how to use them. They hung listlessly at his side.

"I didn't…I didn't know what to say," Tony said, crossing his own arms across his chest defensively.

Steve turned and stared at the wall behind Leah's head.

"So you wanted to hear from Tony?" Leah asked quietly.

Steve flushed. "It doesn't matter. She's gone. It's…in the past."

Tony blinked. He felt color growing in his own cheeks and wondered if he could call the suit to carry him out of the office. Feign an emergency.

Maybe accidentally discharge a repulsor.

Leah was staring at Tony now. Not moving. Not speaking. Waiting.

"Cap.." he said, slipping back into his vacated seat, and glanced down at the man beside him. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He needed a fucking drink. He could feel Steve's eyes move to him, but said nothing.

He laid his head back on the couch.

When he opened his eyes, Steve was still staring forward, eyes focused just past Leah's shoulders. He was silent.

"I'm fine," he said, voice choking and he coughed to hide it. He hesitated, but looked quickly back at Tony, catching his eye for a moment.

Leah leaned forward, clasping her hands. "

Th

is is good, gentleman."

They stepped out into the garage again, but this time Tony noticed Steve had parked beside him. They moved slowly, but neither of them said a word to the other. Tony watched as Steve climbed on his bike, and the engine roared to life.

"I was…sorry to hear about Peggy," Tony said, and Steve stiffened, but turned back toward him. His face held shadows Tony had never noticed before. He seemed exhausted.

He offered Tony a halfhearted smile. "Thank you, Tony. She was a good friend."

Tony stopped and held up a hand. He listened for a moment, not saying a word, but gesturing at the bike, "She's missing."

Steve looked confused. "Who is?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Your bike. She's missing." He again pointed at the bike beneath Steve.

Steve shrugged. "I know. Been meaning to spend a little time with her, but I've been preoccupied. "

The bike suddenly gave a cough and puttered to a rest. Steve frowned and tried to restart her, but the engine never turned back over. His shoulders sank. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair.

Tony leaned over quietly and grabbed the knapsack from the back of his bike. "Looks like you're riding with me."

Steve was already shaking his head. "No, I'm good. It's not that late. I can call a tow truck, get her in the shop at least."

Tony opened the back door to his black SUV, and tossed the knapsack inside. He turned back to Steve and gestured back at the truck "Just let me drive you home. I'll have Happy pick up the bike, and have it back to you before tomorrow. No charge."

Steve said nothing, looking worried.

"Really?" he said, arching an eyebrow at Steve. "You know who I am, right?"

Steve frowned, but stood and moved back toward Tony. He shifted his feet, and zipped up his coat. "I grew up in the depression. I can't argue with free."

Tony smirked and Steve headed for the passenger seat.

They drove mostly in silence, Steve occasionally offering a quiet left here, or right up ahead. In between he closed his eyes and slumped against the window.

Tony watched him from the corner of his eye, and knew he hadn't been imagining things Steve was smaller somehow, as if weight had been dropped. His face was leaner, his energy level lower than Tony had ever been witness to. Rain suddenly began to pelt down, and he quickly switched the wipers on, listening to the rhythm as they swished back and forth.

When they got just outside of the city Steve sat up and pointed at a McDonald's. "Hungry. You mind?"

Tony's face scrunched up. "You hate fast food. What the hell, Cap?"

Steve frowned and set up straighter. "You can give the "Cap" thing a rest anytime. And you can always drop me. I can walk from here, "he said reaching in the back toward his satchel.

Tony growled. "Can we take it down a notch, McSensitive? I have been lectured after more than one hangover, "he said as his signaled a turn and swung into the lot, pulling into the drive thru line. . "about the dangers of fast food from Cap…"

He stopped and Steve was staring stonily back at him. "Steve Rogers."

Another eye roll. Between the two of they had to have crossed some Guinness record for eye rolls. The thought made him smirk.

The red Toyota in front of them was slowly perusing the menu, repeating that they needed a moment. Tony rolled down his window. "The fucking menu hasn't changed in 20 years. Pick something!"

The guy turned around to yell back, his chunky face flushed with rage. He blinked in surprise. "Yeah! Tony Sparks!"

Steve chuckled beside him and Tony shot him a glare. He shrugged his shoulders, but his smiled remained.

Tony leaned back out the window and faced Toyota man. "Order what you want. I'll pay. Just get the fuck out of my way."

The man's car seemed to vibrate with glee, shaking from side to side, and he shouted an order at the drive thru and shot off to the first drive thru window, gesticulating behind him to Tony's SUV.

Tony pulled forward and leaned out toward the drive thru speaker. "If you get him away from here in less than a minute, everyone gets a one-thousand-dollar tip.' 

He looked back at his passenger who had the frown of disapproval.

"Tips for the working class? Me buying a meal for the less fortunate? You'll survive." He gestured at the menu before him and raised a questioning eyebrow. He heard the Toyota zoom off into the distance.

"Five Big Mac's. Five fries. Six fish sandwiches," Steve said, leaning toward Tony as he perused the menu.

"Twenty years, Steve. You've been awake long enough to know the menu."

Steve blinked distinctive blue eyes back at him. "Orange hi-c."

Tony repeated the order, and before he knew it, they were parked outside a shit Red Roof Inn, at room number 27, while Steve waded through the bag. The smell of fresh grease inadvertently made Tony's stomach growl, and without a word, Steve grabbed a Big Mac and tossed it in his direction while opening one of his own and diving in with enthusiasm.

Tony unwrapped it, took a bite, and swallowed. "So this is home?"

Steve shrugged for the 700th time that day and continued to munch on his own Big Mac, offering no comment.

It was the most run down hotel Tony had the displeasure of laying eyes on in a long time. There was a pool to his left filled with debris and leaves, and a sad looking ice machine staring back at them forlornly. The door to Steve's room was chipped, and the 2 hung sideways, irritating Tony's frequently diagnosed OCD. There had to be bugs. He winced inwardly. Sweet lord, the bugs.

He tried again. "Seriously, this is home? Do the roaches pay half at least?"

Steve sighed and spoke around a mouthful of Big Mac. "I've slept in worse." He continued chewing, oblivius to his resemblance to a horse chewing on hay.

Tony scowled. "You're repulsive, Rogers. Seriously. People should know this about you."

Steve took another bite. He looked down at himself and blinked back at Tony innocently. "Wha?" he asked, another mouthful of food. Some dribbled down onto his yellow sweatshirt. Grease showed at the corners of his mouth, French fry salt across his fingertips.

"You're seriously fucking repulsive There needs to be an expose on this," Tony says, snagging a napkin from the bag and tossing at Steve. "Captain America ruined for millions of housewives across the country."

Steve grabbed the napkin. He was quiet for a moment, trying not to smile. He choked on a laugh and covered his mouth, swallowing down his mouthful of burger. Tony chuckled. "If you choke you're on your own. You're too disgusting to save."

Suddenly, memories hit him. Steve driving the shield into the arc reactor, Tony lying in the cold, the taste of blood returning to his mouth. Steve's own bloody face looking down at him. He closed his eyes against the onslaught. He felt his throat choke, his heart rate speed up. He took several deep breaths and mentally counted to ten.

He had to get past this. He was not a child.

When he finally opened his eyes, Steve was half out the door, knapsack in hand, McDonald's dangling from the other. He looked back at Tony, as he swung the knapsack onto his shoulder. He suddenly looked tired again. "Thanks." He paused and gestured at the car. "For the ride."

Tony blinked back at him and started the car. He could still feel panic dissipating down his spine, the last vestiges of it still moving through his body.

He said nothing as

Steve closed the door, but flipped on the radio and backed out, heading for home.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a clock on the wall in the shape of a very large coffee cup. It ticked and tocked, but remained the only noise in the room.

Tony shifted on the couch, and scratched at his chin idly.

Leah sat across from him, watching them silently. She didn't seem to mind the silence, nor be bothered by the ticking of the clock. In all honesty she seemed remarkably content, legs crossed and chin resting on her right arm. She shifted and the scratch of her starched skirt seemed to echo loudly through the room.

He glanced down at Steve who seemed to be completely enamored with the top of his shoe. He made no move to speak, and sat unmoving, except for the occasional scratch at the back of his neck.

Tony scowled and wondered if he had bed bugs. Bed bugs everywhere, crawling all over the couch, slowly making their way across the couch to hitch a ride on Tony's suit. He could almost feel it and shuddered.

Steve glanced down at him, but went back to scratching his neck.

"So we have nothing to say today, gentleman?" Leah asked finally, but still seemed unbothered if they chose to remain silent.

Tony flicked at some imaginary lint on his suit, and readjusted his watch. His panic at Steve's motel had been embarrassing at best, and slightly emasculating. It wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling and he was struggling to keep it buried deep within his gut. Maybe never ever speak of it. Maybe eliminate the giant bed bug at the end of this couch and never ever have to speak or think of it again. He rubbed a hand briefly across his brow, ducking his eyes from their view.

"The weather wasn't too bad today. Not too much snow in the forecast," Steve said unexpectedly.  
Tony dropped his hand from his eyes, and peered down at him in confusion.

"What?"

Steve gestured toward the large window looking out onto the city street lights. The wind could be heard urgently battering against them. Snow pelting with a soft ting.  
Steve spoke again. "Weather," he added slowly, and gestured again, looking at Tony as if he didn't speak English, or understand what was happening around him.

"The weather," he parroted back at Steve in confusion. He swiveled back toward Leah. "He wants to talk about the weather."

Cap groaned. "I don't want to talk about the weather you ass."

"Language." Tony added, sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest.

"They are going to put that on my tombstone," Steve added morosely, squaring his shoulders and rising. He ended up with the soft silhouette of city lights behind him as he gazed out the window at the falling snow.

Steve turned back toward them, and leaned a shoulder against the window sill. He took a deep breath. "They've…they've made some progress with Bucky."

Tony froze. His heart hammered in his chest. He looked quickly back toward the door but steeled his nerves and looked back at his teammate. "Don't. Not yet."

Leah shifted forward, her hand coming to rest on her knees. Tony could feel her eyes on him, but chose to keep his eyes on the other occupant of the room. Steve met his gaze unwaveringly.

"It's what we are here to deal with, aren't we?" Steve asked, finally averting his gaze. His eyes seemed to focus back on his beloved shoe.

Tony's heart continued to race. He leaned back and grabbed the arm rest of the couch, squeezing it until his knuckles whitened.

"Why can't we talk about this, Tony?" Leah asked quietly, her voice soothing but sounding distant over Tony's thumping heart. He could hear his mother's voice in the back of his mind, calling out for Howard. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of memory.

"Tony?" Leah asked, quietly, but insistently.

Sweat broke out on his back, tiny droplets reminding him of the heat in the room. "Is it hot in here?" he asked, feeling it also break out on his upper lip. He licked at his dry lips.

"Why can't we…"Tony shot to his feet. He looked around the room, gaze shooting from Steve to Leah. Steve stepped forward slowly, holding his hands up as if dealing with a wounded animal.

"He didn't know what he was doing."

Tony took a deep breath. "He killed my parents," he said quietly, closing his eyes.

He opened his eyes and turned back toward Steve, meeting his gaze.

Tony flitted his eyes back at Steve and then at Leah. His stomach was still churning but the world seemed to be coming back into focus. His heart rate slowed, and he looked back toward the couch. He took a stumbling step forward, and sat down hard. The couch creaked loudly under his weight. He focused on his breathing for a minute, and realized Steve sat beside him again.

"I know he did," Steve said, scrubbing his hands down his pants. "But he was controlled by Hydra. Conditioned. If you knew what it was like, to have someone else in charge of your mind, your thoughts."

Tony felt his face heat up. "My Mom, Cap. She was my mom," Tony said hoarsely. "Jesus, she was my mom," he said, his voice cracking. His heart felt heavy his breathing labored. It didn't matter how long…he missed her.  
Tony felt no remorse for not mentioning Howard. He was suddenly overcome by exhaustion. His mouth felt like cotton, his head was beginning to pound.

"I was 18 when Ma died," Steve said, unexpectedly. His voice had gone soft, his body seeming to curl in on itself. He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"I had nowhere to go. I was alone. I was scared. I didn't know how I would make it."

Tony couldn't help but watch him, fascinated despite himself. "I was so sick. I got turned down for job after job. I remember being so hungry…"

His eyes looked unfocused, and squeezed his hands into fists. "Bucky…Bucky took me in. He said I didn't have to do it on my own. Took me into his place, gave me the first meal I'd had in 2 weeks. We lived in this crap apartment, no heat. No real bed. Just a blanket and a couch. We took turns. Hell, shared the blanket if it we could see our breath." He said, smiling suddenly. He seemed to be elsewhere. Lost somewhere in a time Tony could only imagine.

"Didn't have real glass windows, just these boarded up…"

He looked across at Tony, his face losing the cloud that had hung over it. He blinked owlishly. He sat up straighter. "Sorry. I was just…"

Leah smiled. "Sharing a memory. That's allowed."

Tony felt as if every nerve in his body had placed on alert. He took a shuddering breath and turned his irritation toward Leah. "I gotta tell you lady. I'm not sure how this is helping. So far I've been punched in the face, had to drive his useless ass home," he said jerking a thumb towards Cap, "But how in the fuck is this gonna help me do my job better?"

Leah cut him off sharply. "By listening, Mr. Stark. By trying to understand where your partner is coming from."

He huffed indignantly. "He's not my…"

"We cannot change the past, Tony. We can only learn how our past affected our decisions, and how to go forward from here. I cannot change what happened between you and the Captain. I can help you become cordial again."

Tony growled, and looked down at Cap, who again seemed interested in his beloved shoe.

Tony laid his head back against the seat. It smelled like old, slightly musty. Probably like Steve smelled out of a shower. Musty and filled with self-righteousness.

"Cordial," he repeated with his eyes closed. He and Pepper were cordial. It sucked balls. He took a deep breath, and reopened his eyes.

"I'm glad…" Tony found himself saying.

Cap arched an eyebrow.  
"I'm glad that someone was there for you."He coughed and glanced back at the clock. "I've been alone. No one should be alone," he added softly.

**  
"Why are you calling me Steve?" Cap asked, around a mouthful of Taco Bell. Tony winced, and flipped on his blinker for a left turn.

Tony did not reply, but got into the turn lane, and threw a middle finger at a passing truck who sprayed slush and snow across the bottom of his SUV.

"What?" he asked, and pushed the pedal down through a stale yellow light.

"Cap, Capsicle, Rogers, Captain America. Hey you." Steve said, casting a glance out at the passing traffic and snow, the oncoming traffic lights reflecting across his face.

"Why am I giving you a ride home again?" Tony asked, upping the speed of the windshield wipers. They squealed a little in irritation and he knew he should get Happy to look at them.

Steve frowned, and bit deeply into a bean burrito. He swiped a napkin across his face quickly. "Because it's snowing and I would be a moronic jack ass not to accept your incredible offer of generosity that I in no way deserve, and really shouldn't I own a damned car by now? For God's sake am I ever going to figure out this century, or do you need to buy me a bus schedule?" Cap said repeating the speech Tony had given him not even 20 minutes before in the garage.

"You do need a bus schedule, "Tony muttered, skidding slightly into a turn. Cap's shoulder bumped his before he could correct.

I take the train, Tony. Every day."

"You called me Tony." The yellowed lights of the motel could be seen coming up on the right.

Cap shrugged and looked back at the passing traffic. "So I did."

They pulled into the same little sad motel, and Tony wondered again about bed bugs. Could the super serum prevent bed bugs? Would they be so overwhelmed by American pride and testosterone that they would flee Cap's body before an infestation?

Cap unfastened his seat belt, and grabbed his dinner, stuffing another burrito in his mouth as he exited. His feet sloshed when they hit the ground, and he zipped up his hoody and started to close the door.

"It's different."

Cap didn't close the door, but waited. He knew what Tony was referring to.

"We're different, Cap. You and me…we are not the same," Tony said, casting his eyes around the parking lot light cast in a harsh yellow light. The same sad looking ice machine roared to life, and Tony wondered how someone with Steve's hearing could tolerate that kind of noise.

Steve hadn't left and Tony finally met his eyes. "No, we are not the same." Cap said agreeing and starting to slam the door, but stopped long enough to smile. "Maybe you can tell me about Maria sometime. I...uh…I never had the pleasure." He looked up the at the sky. "Gonna snow again I think."

Tony shook his head. "You're like a 90 year old man updating me with the weather channel every 10 minutes."

Cap shook his head. "Well, I better go. Cockroaches might miss me, " he smirked, and slammed the door. Tony said nothing as Cap disappeared inside his room again.

"Not as much as the bed bugs," he said, swiftly driving out of the parking lot.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you trust him?" Leah asked, suddenly, sitting forward in her chair. She pushed back at her bangs, and focused totally on Tony.

"No," Tony said, wincing at his own hoarse voice.

Steve remained silent, but sat forward, folding his hands between his knees. He shifted again and scratched a hand through his almost shaggy hair. His eyes finally locked back on the floor, but you could see the tenseness in his shoulders.

"Can you tell me why?"

Tony thought of the video, of Steve's face as he confessed. He remembered his own rage boiling inside is veins, and the end result of the Cap dropping the shield as he walked away.

"I know why," Steve said, unexpectedly sitting up straighter, eyes turning to meet Tony's. He met his gaze unwaveringly.

Leah tapped Steve's knee, but his eyes didn't leave Tony's.

"Tell me why he doesn't trust you."

Steve cleared his throat, and shifted. He pulled at his dark sweater as if it were too tight. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. His face turned back to Leah. "I knew about Howard and Maria. I sat on that."

"He doesn't trust me either," Tony said, surprising himself. "The accords were a disaster. Ultron was a disaster." He rolled his eyes. His whole fucking life was disaster.

Leah stood, and moved to sit in between them on the couch. "So we need to ask ourselves if we want to build that trust again…or do we want to move on."

Tony felt his stomach drop. He tried to catch Steve's eyes but they were focused on the wall in front of him.

"The Avengers are needed," Steve said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "Failure is not an option."

Leah looked back and forth between them. "I'm not talking about failure of the Avengers. But the friendship of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark? Totally unnecessary."

"Lady, what the hell?" Tony started, but the finger of doom went up.

"You're both intelligent, resourceful men who have run companies and commanded men in battle. You can't tell me you've liked every employee or soldier you've ever met," she said, leaning back. She stretched her legs out before her looking as if she were making herself at home.

"This is not the same," Tony said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. He clamped it down with a deep breath.

"It is the same. I believe you both could work on a professional level without the need for friendship."

Tony looked down at Steve again. His eyes were closed, his face flushed. "Fuck. I don't think she's wrong," Tony said, deflating. He leaned forward and covered his face in his hands. This was so fucking stupid. He didn't need this. Rogers hated him. There was little he could do to change that.

There was silence in the room, except for the ticking clock. Curiosity won out, and he uncovered his face to meet blue eyes staring at him in shock.

Steve looked a little like a kicked puppy, not so much the pillar of American masculinity. His mouth opened and closed resembling a goldfish in a bowl.

"Oh, please. Rogers, you were thinking the same thing. And close your mouth. You look like you need CPR."

His mouth clacked shut audibly and a full on Captain America, I am so indignant about the lack of righteousness in this situation I will have to rescue a puppy glare was back in full force. "Unacceptable."

Tony flounced dramatically, rocking the couch back. "Are you kidding me, Cap? Are you serious? How is that not a reasonable solution? You win, I win, the world, " he said gesturing around the room dramatically to encompass it, "wins."

Steve was clearly trying to maintain some kind of composure, the little vein in his left temple was throbbing. "No."

"Cap. I know you did things different in the 40's, but here we use whole sentences."

Leah, who Tony had all but forgotten, agreed and Steve growled. "No. No, this is not why we are here. The Avengers need to be a cohesive unit. That involves bonding in friendship, having the other guys back when they need it."

"You're not listening. We can operate efficiently without friendship. We can stick to work, keep this professional. No need to intermingle the personal with the business side, Cap. I've done this with teams at Stark industries…"

"That's not enough," Steve spit out, startling Tony. "It can't be. I…don't have that many people, Stark. You…the team? That's what I have left."

Tony blinked and could feel his own cheeks color. He glanced at Leah who looked as if she had expected this very conversation. "Shit.'"

"We'll start small. If one needs a small favor, the other provides it. If one needs a proverbial ear, we will provide it. Maybe even smaller. Do what you say! Follow through. And most of all try for honesty. Small gestures lead to big rewards."

They pulled up to Steve's motel Steve balancing a bag of Chinese takeout they had picked up on the drive. He started to get out of the car, setting the bag down on the seat as he got out. He paused and looked up at Tony. "You want to come in?"

Tony scowled. "Not even remotely." He flipped through a few texts from Pepper, intending to ignore him until he got out. But the car door stayed stubbornly closed.

Steve sighed. "Tony…just..." he looked up at the car ceiling and then brought his gaze back to Tony's. "Just…. Eat Chinese with me."

Tony looked down at the key in the ignition. He should go home. He knew he should go home. This was stupid.

He switched the ignition off and climbed out to the truck. Steve looked weirdly determined, his face set in full on serious mode. It him roll his eyes, but he quickly found himself inside…the shittiest hotel room known to man.

"What. The. Fuck," he said, taking in the yellow sallow décor. Two double beds covered by a comforter that Mrs. Brady had picked out covered each. There was one sink, a toilet and a shower immediately adjacent. The carpet was…shit brown and probably covered in…

Steve set down the Chinese food on the small table in the room. He quickly set up paper dishes, and cups, and set coffee to brew in the super disgusting coffee maker that came with the room. Tony eyed it speculatively.

Steve gestured to an open chair and Tony sat down slowly. "I need to call Pepper. I can't remember the last time I had a tetanus shot."

"It's not that bad." Steve said and opened container after container and the sweet and almost sticky smell of Chinese permeated and overpowered the damp, sallow smell that seemed to hang in the room. Five minutes later they both had hot cups of coffee and were silently chowing down on sesame chicken and some sort of ribs. They weren't half bad Tony thought as he licked a thumb covered in sauce. Steve had turned on the TV and an old episode of MacGyver played in the background.

Steve's eyes kept shifting between the TV and Tony. He hadn't eaten much, but his coffee was half gone, and he squeezed and released his napkin at shifting intervals.

Tony took a deep drink of coffee and eyed his host. "What's with the hippy hair do, Rogers?"

Steve, who had his fork halfway to his mouth, looked confused. "It's a little longer than normal."

"I can recommend a barber. Hell, I'll pay for it if I don't have to look at that mop on top of your head for the next few months."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Why are you so worried about my hair?" He wrapped a noodle up in his fork, and jabbed it into his mouth.

"Not really a lot to talk about here. Topics are limited. "He couldn't help the exhaustion that cracked his voice. He set his coffee down, watching as it spilled over.

"We can find something." Steve said, ducking his head down. He poked at his plate, and the grease spread a little further out toward the rim.

"And what's with the weight loss?" he said, cocking his head to the side. Steve's face was getting fuller again, but still seemed leaner than it had in the past.

Steve heaved a sigh and laid his head down on the table beside his plate. "Tony."

"You have money. I helped you invest it. What's with the vagabond lifestyle?" he asked gesturing around the room.

"Did you see the game last night?" Steve asked sitting up, he crossed his arms across his chest. He looked annoyed, but no more than usual annoyed Steve.

"What game?" Tony asked, reaching over and grabbing a napkin. He qickly scrubbed at his hands wondering when he could go home.

"Any game. Any game in the whole world. Soccer, football, baseball?" Steve said, sipping at his coffee. "I don't care which one."

Tony paused and watched him. Steve arched an eyebrow. "The red and blue won. Made my whole night. Can I go home now?"

"You can go home whenever you want," Steve said, exasperation beginning to color his voice. He looked back at the TV.

"I like that guy," he said, unexpectedly. The screen showed MacGyver using chewing gum and chocolate bars to defeat some sort of villain of the day. Steve smiled and watched in silence.

"Yeah. He's ok," Tony said, rising and moving to stand between the two beds. He watched as Macgyver made eyes at his lady friend, and watched as Steve looked surprisingly invested.

"He reminds me of you," Steve said, not looking away from the TV. His arms were leaned forward, his hand crossed across his knees. He looked a little embarrassed at the admission.

Tony sat down on what appeared to be the open bed. He laid back against the headboard and crossed his knees at ankle.

"You should take your shoes off…"

"Rogers, I will burn in hell before I expose my feet to the amount of dirt, human skin cells, sperm, and human repulsiveness on this floor."

Tony heard a low chuckle. "Fair enough."

Tony looked back at the screen, and neither spoke as MacGyver worked on saving humanity once again.

The episode ended, and Tony decided to call it a night.

"What was she like?" Steve asked quietly. His longer than normal hair was almost hanging in his eyes.

"Who?"

Steve didn't reply. Tony brought his legs over the side of the bed, and looked at himself in a cracked mirror. Steve met his eyes in the glass.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Oh. My mother…," Tony said. "She smelled like Elizabeth Arden. When he…" He could see her soft white hair hung down around her shoulders, leaned against him, laughing into his neck.

Tony took a shuddering breath. "When he drank…he..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what he did. She was there. She would wrap me up in a blanket. She did this thing…" he said, smiling at the memory. "She would run her hand through my hair. It was curly, so her hands always got caught in a tangle." He couldn't help but mimic the motion. Sunlight, her soft laugh. Her hands so gentle as they passed over his face.

He laughed, but it felt hollow. "She would say Antonio, I love you like the sun loves the Earth. In the light and the dark, in the sun and the shade. I love you forever and always."

He stopped. He had never told anyone that, not even Pepper. He flushed again and stood. He was surprised at the raw feeling in his chest.

He looked back at Steve, but dropped the eye contact suddenly struck by self consciousness. Which never happened. Like ever. "Jesus. I'm becoming maudlin, Cap."

Steve said nothing and began picking up dishes, throwing food in the trash. "I was thinking about favors." He stood as he said it not looking at Tony.

Tony froze but watched Steve as he moved around the room, throwing away plates, cleaning out the coffee filter. "I…I've been spending a lot of time alone," he said, heading for the sink and quickly washing his hands. He grabbed a hand towel and turned back toward Tony, leaning against the wall. He tossed the hand towel behind him. He kept his eyes downcast.

"I…wouldn't mind some company," Steve said. He looked up slowly, catching Tony's eye. "You know. For dinner. Or maybe a cup of coffee."

Tony sighed. He shouldn't even be here. He should be at home, in his lab. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

He glanced around the shitty hotel.

"Seriously. I can hear the fucking bed bugs."

Steve groaned. "Stark…"

Tony grabbed his keys from his pocket. "Honestly. I'm like royalty, how do you not get this?"

Steve stood and began pushing him toward the door. Tony resisted, digging in his heels as Steve pushed. "There are protocols. I'm very highly regarded. You should probably bow."

"I will see you at the next session, Stark, " Steve said, pushing him out the door.

Tony paused at the threshold. "Leah said favors and you're throwing me out of your shit hotel room?"

Steve paused and arched an eyebrow. Tony couldn't help the light feeling that filled his mind. He looked back at Steve.

"Why are we really doing this? I keep asking, and no one seems to know." Tony said, looking down at his hands. He could feel Steve watching him, but just admired his everything is bigger in Texas key chain.

Steve stopped. Paused. Stood straighter. "Tony."

Tony felt his stomach drop. His heart pounded, and he met the azure blue gaze. Steve looked down, and back up. His hands were restless at his side. He reached forward unexpectedly and zipped Tony's jacket.

"Sometimes things fall apart so better things can fall together," Steve said, his hand remaining on the zipper. He looked up from under his lashes. Tony blinked owlishly.

Tony's phone rang abruptly, the sound of Aerosmith filling the air and ending the moment. He breathed deeply and shoved back, opening the door, and heading for his car. He never looked back as he slid the answer button across.

"Sourpatch. It's been too long."

By the time he had started the truck up, the door had been closed, the drab curtains drawn.

"How much have you missed me?" he said as he pulled out of the lot.


End file.
